"The Existential Crisis of every Litten Fan: A Dramatic Monologue."

Being the devoted fan of the franchise you are, you make sure to check /r/ Pokemon for news in the morning, sitting peacefully around the breakfast table. Luchatigre stares at you from the screen. You do not understand.How could Gamefreak do this to us, you wonder. Not again. Not in this day and age. Not after the abomination that was Emboar. You thought they had learnt their lesson. You were wrong.You try to speak its name but you cannot, the words cannot escape your lips. You cry the bitter tears of a quarupedless fan, the bitter tears that still cannot extinguish the flames of Delphox's dissapointment.Luchatigre is mocking you, roaring at you from the screen, as the Siren and Archer do nothing to help. You briefly consider switching to Popplio. No. You have too much dignity for that. Rowlett seems like an increasingly attractive prospect, but that would betray your fire type sensibilities: You would be forced to use Tortunator, and that would not do.Luchatigre knows what it has done. Your plan, your destiny, has been violated. How can you journey through Alola with Lurantis now, now that Rowlett has darkened your grass type spot!? And what of the humble Pikipek or Oricorio, forever doomed to the wild due to the wings upon your last resort's back?It is raining figurines of Luchatigre now, you have an image of Emboar burnt onto your back and you do not understand. Your family members stare on in confused horror as you convulse, sending fluffy pancakes flying across the room towards your pet cat. It looks on with malice, its face twisted into the smug grin of an equally abominable alolan Persian.You fall into a deep, depressed slumber. There has not been an epic fire type starter since Infernape. The flames are waning and your candle is nearly burnt out. Your hopes are dying. Dying. via /r/pokemon http://ift.tt/2dkCpcV